THE CLERK IN ART
The finest portrait ever painted of a parish clerk is that of Orpin,
clerk of Bradford-on-Avon, Wilts, whose interesting old house still
stands near the grand parish church and the beautiful little Saxon
ecclesiastical structure. This picture is the work of Thomas
Gainsborough, R.A., and is now happily preserved in the National
Gallery. Orpin has a fine and noble face upon which the sunlight is
shining through a window as he turns from the Divine Book to see the
glories of the blue sky.
"Some word of life e'en now has met
His calm benignant eye;
Some ancient promise breathing yet
Of immortality.
Some heart's deep language which the glow
Of faith unwavering gives;
And every feature says 'I know
That my Redeemer lives.'"
The size of this canvas is four feet by three feet two inches. Orpin is
wearing a blue coat, black vest, white neck-cloth, and dark breeches.
His hair is grey and curly, and falls upon his shoulders. He sits on a
gilt-nailed chair at a round wooden table, on which is a reading-easel,
supporting a large volume bound in dark green, and labelled "Bible, Vol.
I." The background is warm brown.
Of this picture a critic states: "The very noble character of the
worthy old clerk's head was probably an additional inducement to
Gainsborough to paint the picture, Seldom does so fine a subject present
itself to the portrait painter, and Gainsborough evidently sought to do
justice to his venerable model by unusual and striking effect of
lighting, and by more than ordinary care in execution. It might almost
seem like impertinence to eulogise such painting, as this canvas
contains painting which, unlike the works of Reynolds, seems fresh and
pure as the day it left the easel; and it would be still more futile to
attempt to define the master's method."
The history of the portrait is interesting. It was painted at
Shockerwick, near Bradford, where Wiltshire, the Bath carrier, lived,
who loved art so much that he conveyed to London Gainsborough's pictures
from the year 1761 to 1774 entirely free of charge. The artist rewarded
him by presenting him with some of his paintings, _The Return from
Harvest, The Gipsies' Repast_, and probably this portrait of Orpin was
one of his gifts. It was sold at Christie's in 1868 by a descendant of
the art-loving carrier, and purchased for the nation by Mr. Boxall for
the low sum of £325.
The mediæval clerk appears in many ancient manuscripts and
illuminations, which show us, better than words can describe, the actual
duties which he was called upon to perform. The British Museum possesses
a number of pontificals and other illustrated manuscripts containing
artistic representations of clerks. We see him accompanying the priest
who is taking the last sacrament to the sick. He is carrying a taper and
a bell, which he is evidently ringing as he goes, its tones asking for
the prayers of the faithful for the sick man's soul. This picture
occurs in a fourteenth-century MS. [6 E. VI, f. 427], and in the same
MS. we see another illustration of the priest administering the last
sacrament attended by the clerk [6 E. VII, f. 70].
[Illustration: THE CLERK ATTENDING THE PRIEST AT HOLY BAPTISM]
[Illustration 2: THE CLERK ATTENDING THE PRIEST AT HOLY BAPTISM]
Another illustration shows the priest baptizing an infant which the male
sponsor holds over the font, while the priest pours water over its head
from a shallow vessel. The faithful parish clerk stands by the priest.
This appears in the fifteenth-century MS. Egerton, 2019, f. 135.
In the MS. of Froissart's Chronicle there is an illustration of the
coronation procession of Charles V of France. The clerk goes before the
cross-bearer and the bishop bearing his holy-water vessel and his
sprinkler for the purpose of aspersing the spectators. We have already
given two illustrations taken from a fourteenth-century MS. in the
British Museum, which depict the clerk, as the _aquæbajalus_, entering
the lord's house and going first into the kitchen to sprinkle the cook
with holy water, and then into the hall to perform a like duty to the
lord and lady as they sit at dinner.
There is a fine picture in a French pontifical of the fifteenth century,
which is in the British Museum (Tiberius, B. VIII, f. 43), of the
anointing and coronation of a king of France. An ecclesiastical
procession is represented meeting the king and his courtiers at the door
of the cathedral of Rheims, and amongst the dignitaries we see the clerk
bearing the holy-water vessel, the cross-bearer, and the thurifer
swinging his censer. The clerk wears a surplice over a red tunic.
One other of these mediæval representations of the clerk's duties may be
mentioned. It is a fifteenth-century French MS. in the British Museum
(Egerton, 2019, f. 142), and represents the last scenes of this mortal
life. The absolution of the penitent, the administration of the last
sacrament, the woman mourning for her husband and arranging the
grave-clothes, the singing of the dirige, the burial, and the reception
of the soul of the departed by our Lord in glory. The clerk appears in
several of these scenes. He is kneeling behind the priest in the
administration of the last sacrament. Robed in surplice and cope he is
chanting the Psalms for the departed, and at the burial he is holding
the holy-water vessel for the asperging of the corpse.
There are several paintings by English artists which represent the
old-fashioned clerk in all his glory in his throne in the lowest seat of
the "three-decker." Perhaps the most striking is the satirical sketch of
the pompous eighteenth-century clerk as shown in Hogarth's engraving of
_The Sleeping Congregation_, to which I have already referred. As a
contrast to Hogarth's _Sleeping Congregation_ we may place Webster's
famous painting of a village choir, which is thoroughly life-like and
inspiring. The old clerk with enrapt countenance is singing lustily. The
musicians are performing on the 'cello, clarionet, and hautboy, and the
singers are chanting very earnestly and very vigorously the strains of
some familiar melody. The picture is a very exact presentment of an old
village choir of the better sort.
[Illustration: THE DUTIES OF A CLERK AT A DEATH AND FUNERAL]
[Illustration: THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD BY W.P. FRITH]
It was perhaps such a choir as this that an aged friend remembers in a
remote Cornish village. It was a mixed choir, led by a 'cello, flute,
and clarionet. Tate and Brady's version of the Psalms was used
alternately with a favourite anthem arranged by some of the members.
"We'll wash our hands," the basses led off in stentorian tones. Then the
tenors followed. Then the trebles in shrill voices--"washed hands."
Finally, after a pause, the whole choir shouted triumphantly, "in
innocenc_ee_"; and the congregation bore it, my friend naïvely remarks.
The orchestra on one occasion struck work. Only the clerk, who played
his 'cello, remained faithful. To prove his loyalty he appeared as
usual, gave out a hymn of many verses, and sang it through in his clear
bass voice, to the accompaniment of his instrument.
It was not an unusual thing for the clerk to be the only chorister in a
village church, and then sometimes strange things happened. There was a
favourite tune which required the first half of one of the lines to be
repeated thrice. This led to such curious utterances as "My own sal,"
called out lustily three times, and then finished with "My own
salvation's rock to praise." The thrice-repeated "My poor poll" was no
less striking, but it was only a prelude to "My poor polluted heart." A
chorus of women and girls in the west gallery sang lustily, "Oh for a
man," _bis, bis_--a pause--"A mansion in the skies." Another clerk sang
"And in the pie" three times, supplementing it with "And in the pious He
delights." Another bade his hearers "Stir up this stew," but he was only
referring to "This stupid heart of mine." Yet another sang lustily "Take
Thy pill," but when the line was completed it was heard to be "Take Thy
pilgrim home."
Returning to the artistic presentment of clerks, there is a fine sketch
of one in Frith's famous painting of the Vicar of Wakefield, whose
gentle manners and loving character as conceived by Goldsmith are
admirably depicted by the artist. Near the vicar stands the faithful
clerk, a dear old man, who is scarcely less reverend than his vicar.
There is an old print of a portion of the church of St. Margaret,
Westminster, which shows the Carolian "three-decker," a very elaborate
structure, crowned by a huge sounding-board. The clergyman is
officiating in the reading desk, and a very nice-looking old clerk, clad
in his black gown with bands, sits below. There is a pompous beadle with
his flowing wig and a mace in an adjoining pew, and some members of the
congregation appear at the foot of the "three-decker," and in the
gallery. It is a very correct representation of the better sort of
old-fashioned service.
The hall of the Parish Clerks' Company possesses several portraits of
distinguished members of the profession, which have already been
mentioned in the chapter relating to the history of the fraternity. By
the courtesy of the company we are enabled to reproduce some of the
paintings, and to record some of the treasures of art which the
fraternity possesses.
[Illustration (upside down, by the way): PORTRAIT OF RICHARD HUNT THE
RESTORER OF THE CLERKS' ALMSHOUSES]